


set down your edges

by lacquer



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Knives, M/M, Reunions, War, also kinda - Freeform, is it pining if you're basically glued to each other's sides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-02-01 05:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacquer/pseuds/lacquer
Summary: "You cut your hair." For some reason, that's the detail Joshua gets stuck on when Jeonghan walks in the front gate, sun burning behind him.(A month after being sent to New York, Jeonghan returns to camp.)
Relationships: Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 135





	set down your edges

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deadlylampshades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlylampshades/gifts).

> a belated gift dedicated to ayesha, fellow scorpio who puts 95% of the jihan content on my timeline <3 this is not quite in time to be a birthday present, but i hope your birthday was lovely anyway, you deserve it!!
> 
> some notes about this story:  
1\. going a little au with percy jackson if you know the books, it's around the last olympian but i've changed some things, hopefully it is still understandable! there are no intended parallels between svt/pjo characters  
2\. an explaination of the knife tag is below if you're worried

"You cut your hair." For some reason, that's the detail Joshua gets stuck on when Jeonghan walks in the front gate, sun burning behind him. It’s orange-red from the forest fires still smoldering to their west, and hung low like the eye of an angry god. Joshua knows that Apollo isn’t angry today, though.

Jeonghan is still dressed for battle, well worn armor plating his thighs, his forearms. He’s gilded by the sun’s light, throat painted bloody. There’s a dagger in his hand and a spear strapped to his backpack, both honed to a razor edge. 

The way Jeonghan is holding himself, too, looks razor-fine, level as the edge of a blade. His mouth is pinched when he says, “It wasn’t very practical in battle.” And then he smiles, and Joshua’s heart turns over. 

Jeonghan’s smiles should be like the first sliver of dawn: teasing, brilliant, promising. The one he’s making right now looks like there’s ash in his mouth. Joshua hates it. He doesn’t say anything though, simply steps forward and offers him a hand. “Welcome back to camp, Jeonghan.”

He doesn’t say, _ welcome home. _Somehow, it doesn’t look like Jeonghan would believe him. 

Jeonghan looks at his hand for a moment and twitches, like he’s holding himself back from taking it. He pulls up his backpack, both hands to the shoulder straps, and takes a step around him to the camp beyond. “It’s good to see you Joshua.” 

_ Joshua _ , not _ Josh _. 

_ It’s only been a month since you were sent out, _ Joshua thinks, heart resting somewhere around his kneecaps. _ What changed? _

* * *

That night, after the campfire, Seungcheol spreads out the maps again. Some of the Hestaphus kids had rigged up a projector, and the street map of Manhattan hovers over the dying embers like the ghost of a city. 

Seungcheol’s face is grim. “They’re getting closer.” With one hand he zooms in on the west bank of the map as he continues, "Seungkwan managed to see this far into their camp before Gaia could kick him out, and they're planning something big this week. Bigger than normal." Behind him, Seungkwan is seated heavily on a log, bandages around his head. The son of Iris looks bruised, as if he had been on the losing end of a fist fight.

Around Joshua, his fellow campers stir uneasily. It's been a long couple of months defending the seat of Olympus, waiting for the gods to return Gaia to sleep again. For every week spent defending the city, another handful of them come back wounded, come back shaken. It's not a battle they're fighting, it's a war. 

"I know." Seungcheol says. "I know. It doesn't look good. But there's hope." He points to shore of Manhattan, a river of starlight. "They've stopped by the riverbank, and as far as we know, none of their forces are going after the nearby people. We have time to figure out what they're planning." 

By his side, Jeonghan is standing like a shard of midnight. He's changed out of his armor, but the dagger remains at his waist, pommel gleaming in the firelight. Joshua can’t help but look at him as Seungcheol continues to outline their plan. 

There’s an unfamiliar weight to his gaze, and he’s standing a solid two feet away from the other leader. The longer Joshua looks at him, the more things start to pile up. His posture hasn’t relaxed at all, even in camp, and his free hand twitches every time someone gets too close. 

“...and Jeonghan knows more about the frontlines than I do right now, so he’ll take over this part.” Seungcheol goes to clap Jeonghan on the back, an action that is neatly sidestepped, before Jeonghan walks up to the front. 

“It’s good to be back, you all.” He waits out a round of cheers with that same ash-smile, raising a hand magnanimously to stop them. “I won’t sugar coat the situation, Gaia’s forces are getting closer. A week ago, we lost Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, and they wasted no time in taking Long Island. Soonyoung is still holding the frontlines, but we’re giving up ground in the Bronx every day.” 

A discontented hush sweeps their circle of firelight. Jeonghan waits for it to peter out, mouth a knife-slash of tension. His eyes gleam in the darkness. “We aren’t giving up though. Hades sent another legion of skeletons, and I do have good news. Soonyoung managed to convince the rivers to stand with us. They won’t be able to cross by water anymore.”

Joshua takes a moment to appreciate the reprieve from one angle of attack, at least. Jeonghan continues, “We’re rotating out the people who are on the frontlines, the next wave will go out with Seungcheol tomorrow. Thank you all for your hard work. We all know why we’re doing this, but that doesn’t make it easier. May your paths be filled with hearthlight. May home always be with you.”

With that he goes to sit back down. Around the campfire, Joshua can see hope rising once again his campmate’s faces. He can feel it in himself, too. Despite looking tense as a drawn bow, Jeonghan’s words are genuine, ringing like bells. He burns like the sun; Joshua would follow him into the depths of Hades, just to see that smile again. 

As Jeonghan turns away, Seungcheol tries to pat him on the shoulder. It’s a comforting gesture, one meant to congratulate. Joshua’s not sure what happens next, but in a split second, Jeonghan’s hand comes up to block him, an action more of instinct than thought. 

The crack of their arms meeting is loud, and in the sudden hush after it, Seungcheol draws back slowly, hand clenched around his forearm. Joshua’s no expert, but it looks broken.

Before he can say anything, Jeonghan backs up, practically stumbling over his own feet. “Sorry. I’ve got to—” Without another word, he turns on his heel and runs into the woods behind them. Seungcheol looks after him, expression a mix of confused and concerned. 

He’s only taken one step in the direction Jeonghan went when Joshua gets up, walking over to his side. “Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll go after him.”

"Are you sure?" Seungcheol’s mouth is parted, eyebrows drawn down. He's walking-wounded, looks an inch away from sitting down and putting his head in his hands. Joshua is suddenly reminded that he’s only 20, far too young to be leading an army. He’s still standing though. They all are. That has to count for something. 

Joshua's voice is gentle when he says, “Rest. I’ve got this one.” He turns in the direction that Jeonghan had run, and walks away slowly, eyes scanning the forest for any sign of life. 

It’s part consideration for Seungcheol, part something that he doesn’t like to consider too often. If Jeonghan is hurting, Joshua wants to be there. An impulse to draw him closer, offer him a place to set down his edges. Jeonghan is one of the fiercest people he knows, but that doesn’t change what he wishes he could do—the idea resting next to his heart, fluttering with every inhale. 

* * *

When they were much younger, nearly seven years so, Jeonghan had brought him out to the mountains. They hadn’t been year-round campers then, hadn’t wondered why there were no demigods older than thirty around to guide them. There had only been the crisp air of elevation, the heady scent of wildflowers, and the vanishing rattle of a bus in the distance. And, of course, Jeonghan.

“Why are we up here?” Joshua had asked. 

Jeonghan’s smile had been coy as the cirrus clouds above their heads, and he had simply shook his head. “You have to wait.” 

They had walked up deer trails for hours, until they were both sweaty, mouths open to the dry breeze. And then, when the sun was halfway set, Jeonghan showed him what they had come for.

He’d done it in the most dramatic way possible, cupping his fingers over Joshua’s eyes, and leading him around a bend in the path, laughing every time Joshua tried to take a peek. “No looking! Just trust me, ok?”

Even then, Joshua trusted Jeonghan, and so he had closed his eyes beneath the shutters of Jeonghan's fingers, let himself be led around a corner. The rocks were unsteady beneath his feet, and he nearly tripped more than once, leaving Jeonghan to balance them both.

Finally though, the ground beneath his feet turned soft, and he heard the sound of running water nearby. 

Jeonghan had maneuvered him nearer to the water, and then removed his hands. The sudden influx of light blinded, bloomed into his pupils until Joshua blinked it away, as he squinted to see what lay in front of him. 

They had been walking through the mountains all day, but the peaks had been obscured by the treeline for the most part. There on a cliff’s edge, they were visible for the first time, the earth’s teeth covered with a layer of pines that reached towards the sky. Farther away, he could see snow dusting the peaks—the only remainder of winter in sight.

The sunset dipped the horizon in gold, and beside him, a river ran off the cliff into the open air, thundered to a pool below. When Joshua tore himself away from the view, it was to see Jeonghan watching him, a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jeonghan flopped down on his back, all the energy that had gotten him up the mountain fleeing in an instant. “My mom took me up here and I thought you should see it.”

Jeonghan had never been straightforward with what he meant, but Joshua had seen what he didn’t say in the gesture. It was something Athena had showed him, a little slice of the time he got with his mother, and Jeonghan had wanted to share it with him. Right then and there, Joshua vowed to himself that whatever Jeonghan shared with him, he would treasure it. 

They stayed on the cliff until the sun faded entirely from the sky, ate through the snacks they had packed, talked about everything and nothing.

"We have to walk back now, don't we." Joshua had said, when the stars finally started to appear.

"I'll admit, I didn't think that far ahead." Jeonghan replied after a second of silence.

When the had finally returned to bus stop halfway down the mountain, it was barely in time to catch the last bus, and Joshua was so exhausted that he fell asleep on Jeonghan's arm within minutes of sitting down. 

He had woken up hours later to Jeonghan sleeping on his completely numb shoulder, and the sinking realization that they had probably missed their stop. He hadn’t minded though, not when they were together. 

* * *

In the end, it’s easy to find Jeonghan, if only by the swath of broken forest he leaves in his wake. It’s as if all he was worried about was escape, crashing headlong through bushes and underbrush alike.

He passes a young pine tree with a branch snapped clean in two, and finally, there in the middle of a clearing butted up against a granite cliff, he sees him. Jeonghan's hair is in disarray, as if he had been tugging on it, and his breath is coming fast and sharp, loud in the quiet forest.

Joshua walks closer. When he’s three steps away, his foot catches on a twig, breaking it clean in two.

It would have been quieter to scream.

Immediately, Jeonghan turns around, one hand drawing the dagger at his hip. He has it to Joshua's throat before either one of them can blink, and Joshua takes a deep breath, noting the way the steel kisses his windpipe—gentle as a lover's touch. He's not worried, though. Joshua hasn't been idle in the time Jeonghan was away. He has his own secrets up his sleeve.

"Jeonghan. It's me." Joshua says the words carefully, noting how Jeonghan swallows, his hand clenching around the dagger. The name is familiar in Joshua’s mouth, said a thousand times: over battlefields, between fits of laughter, in prayer. It feels no different here. "What's wrong?"

“What are you doing here?” Jeonghan asks in return. His eyes are a whetstone darkness, and without the firelight, he looks hollowed out, a riverbed without water. 

“I’m here for you, who else?” Joshua looks him in the eyes, all senses turned towards his body language, attentive as an astronomer to the stars, a sailor to the sea.

For a second, it looks like Jeonghan won’t say anything. He closes his eyes, the hand with the knife still steady at Joshua’s throat. “I’ll be fine, go back to the campfire Joshua.”

“Because this is fine, Jeonghan?” Joshua makes a tiny jerk of his head towards the knife. 

“It’s not that,” Jeonghan says. His mouth is half parted, lips close to bloodless. “It’s— I can’t hurt you when you’re not here.”

The pieces click into place like a particularly mirthless puzzle. _ Joshua, not Josh. Jeonghan’s posture like an unsheathed blade. Seungcheol’s broken arm. _

Joshua makes sure to look him in the eyes as he says, “You don't have to pretend with me, Jeonghan. And I’m not going away. You're not going to hurt me.”

And then, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, he leans his throat into the knife. 

Immediately, Jeonghan tries to draw back, but Joshua wraps a hand around his wrist, refuses to let him pull away. The knife presses into his throat, and... nothing happens. Joshua’s blood stays within his body, pulse sounding out as steady as ever.

“What are you doing?” Jeonghan asks, trying to jerk away, only stilling when it becomes apparent that the knife isn’t doing any harm.

“Proving it.” Joshua says. In some ways, this is the way things have always been. The balance between them is a give and take, equal measures of dare and daring. He can’t help but push when he’s with Jeonghan, can’t help but to goad for more. It’s trust and it's a challenge and it’s the answer to a question they’ve been asking each other for years. _ If I go, will you follow? _

Here in the dark forest, Jeonghan’s face wiped clear to show the uncertainty beneath, Joshua’s answer has never been clearer.

“I visited the Styx while you were away.” Joshua explains. Briefly, the memory tries to rise (_ a river of night, pain like acid in open wounds, holding his breath and thinking— _), and he shoves it back down. Now is not the time. “We’re here. I’m here, Jeonghan. You can’t hurt me, even if you try.” 

With one hand, Joshua pulls the knife closer, with the other he dares to run a thumb over Jeonghan’s jaw. The sound Jeonghan makes is soft as a wounded animal, and he says, “Josh,” like he’s being disarmed by it. 

Tentatively, Jeonghan pushes the knife up, presses harder, but Joshua's throat remains unbroken. The Styx's curse burns over his skin like hellfire, and he tips his head back. Bares his throat.

"You don't have to worry, Jeonghan." Joshua takes his hand off of Jeonghan’s wrist to wrap it around the blade of the knife. Where the edge of it should slip, should cut his palm to the bone, he remains whole. "I'm the one person you can't break."

That seems to do it. With a motion like shattering glass, Jeonghan pulls the knife away, leaving it to hang in the space between them. His free hand comes to the back of Joshua’s neck, pulling their foreheads together. 

This close, Joshua can feel Jeonghan’s breath on his lips, can make out the blurry reflection of his eyes, less than an inch away. The words brush against Joshua’s face when Jeonghan says, “We’re losing the war, Josh. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

Joshua has seen the same resignation on his friends faces. Even this far away from the frontlines, he knows what's happening. There's nothing he can say to make it hurt less, so he simply keeps his hand on Jeonghan's face and says, "I know." There was a reason he chose to chase Achilles's blessing, after all, even when such a feat could end in death.

They are wounded together in the silence that follows, breath mingling in the dark. Joshua closes his eyes, attention drawn to the hand Jeonghan still has on the back of his neck, feels those fingers relax in fractions. 

Joshua is the one to break the silence, voices his words as if in prayer. "I thought of you, you know. When I was in that river." The Styx was cold enough to burn, to scrape off his edges, dissolve him into nothing but a shade of himself. And in it, all Joshua had to keep himself together were his memories of camp. Of his campmates. His family. Jeonghan. 

When memory is the only thing you had to hold on to, you figure out which ones are important very quickly. Joshua knows himself, knows the foundations of his heart, but he had never been forced to confront them so directly before. 

Very quietly, as if it would break a spell, Jeonghan returns, “I thought of you at the front, too. Sometimes…” he trails off. “It gets very dark when you are away from home.”

Here in the forest, it is also dark. Joshua has a feeling that’s not what he means, though. “Stay here a while, Jeonghan. Let’s go back to the campfire.”

When Jeonghan pulls back, there’s an understated hunger in his eyes. He looks at Joshua like he's wants... something unnameable. Something tender and dark and lovely. Joshua has a moment to appreciate it, before the intent is tucked behind another one of Jeonghan’s smiles. 

This one is illuminated by moonlight, and quirks up at the edges. It’s not the Jeonghan of the mountains, but it is the Jeonghan of a month ago: unexpectedly and brilliantly mischievous, tempered with the edge of reality. “Sure, Josh. I’ll follow you there.”

As they walk back to the circle of light occupied by their friends, Joshua takes Jeonghan’s hand in his, looking sidelong at him as he threads their fingers together. They’re at war. If there is any time for him to be gentle, it is now.

**Author's Note:**

> about the knives: in the last scene, jeonghan threatens joshua with a knife to attempt to get him to leave. it doesn't work. joshua does push his throat onto the blade in order to demonstrate that he's immune to being cut, though. tell me if you think i've missed any other tags.
> 
> i'm on twitter/cc @lavenderim if you'd like to chat! if you enjoyed this please leave a comment, i'd love to hear your thoughts <3


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